


When Lost

by fanforfanatic



Series: Destiel Drabbles [22]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adult Lovers, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Childhood Friends, Fluff, Human Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Snapshots, Young Castiel/Young Dean Winchester, same universe but they arent hunters, they grow up though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 09:44:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12454749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanforfanatic/pseuds/fanforfanatic
Summary: Whenever Dean's lost, Cas goes looking.





	When Lost

**Author's Note:**

> prompted by the word _find_

Dean is eleven and on the ground behind a car. The air smells like gasoline, and the asphalt is hard on his knees and hot on his palms. Calm footsteps approach, far too self-assured for his liking so he lowers to his stomach to roll beneath the vehicle, heart like a dog beating against its cage.

He thinks he’s in the clear when a hand wraps around his ankle and yanks him out.

He stares up at the dark figure, backlit by the bright sun, and beams.

“You found me, Cas.”

“I always do,” his best friend squeaks.

 

“I’m going to find you, Dean.” Cas’ voice cracks—they’re well into puberty now—and Dean stifles a snort. “I always do. Might as well give me back my CD.”

Dean molds to the tree as best he can. Cas doesn’t have a snowball’s chance; Dean knows these woods like the back of his hand.

When he sneaks a peek again, Cas isn’t there. 

From behind, a hand falls on his shoulder, grip scorching and tight. He doesn’t check; knows it’s Cas.

 

“Dean,” Cas shouts over the noise of rain, getting out of his truck. They’re barely twenty-two, but Cas already sounds like a man. “You weren’t at the hospital.” 

The rain threatens to drown the world. Dean wishes it would.

“I know about Sam… Dean, I’m sorry.”

Cas approaches him at the center of the crossroads, and pulls him into a hug. Dean can’t find comfort in it.

“Come back, alright? You shouldn’t be out here on your own.” Cas tugs him towards the car, then stops. “Why are your hands dirty?”

 

Dean spends a lifetime shackled to no particular thing, suspended and on display for whoever— _ what _ ever is keen on picking up a scalpel or a knife. He spends another lifetime picking up scalpels and knives. What’s he becoming?

 

The touch on his shoulder sears hotter than hellfire, burns more than his lungs when he wakes up with six feet of dirt above him. He digs, hoping it’s in the right direction.

A hand wraps around his wrist and yanks him the rest of the way out.

Cas smiles at him, soft and knowing, says, “There you are.”

**Author's Note:**

> find me on [tumblr](https://fanforfanatic.tumblr.com/) :)


End file.
